


Before the Storm

by audreyslove



Series: Blackened Souls [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 19:25:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14063847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audreyslove/pseuds/audreyslove
Summary: For #oqpromptparty2018special prompt: Cora has escaped from prison and is coming for Regina





	1. Chapter 1

The headlines of the _Daily Prophet_ comes with its own moving picture, and is impossible to ignore.

_Cora Mills spotted in Hogsmeade in Dementor Attack!_

She doesn’t bother reading much of the substance of the article.  

She just focuse on the angry eyes of her mother has she looks up and begins to chant something, a dark spell, Regina is sure.

Somehow her mother is using dementors to her advantage.  There are others helping her, but they are cloaked in black.

Luckily, Cora didn’t get far. In fact, she had been chased out by Dumbledore, Maleficent, and Ingrid.

Their magic is still more powerful, they say.  

They defeated her easily, they say.

No real threat to Hogwarts, they say, when Cora couldn’t even make her way through the quaint town of Hogsmeade.

Her magic must have been weakened by her time in Azkaban.  

That is the prevailing theory, anyway.

But Regina knows better.

Her mother may have made it seem like she was planning an attack and was bested, but Cora Mills does not appear out of thin air and fight when the best wizards are around.

She’s skillful.

Clever.

Cora has given everyone a false sense of confidence, which is exactly what her bitch if a mother _wants._

But no one seems to believe her.  Most think she’s somehow plotting _with_ her mother, but there’s no evidence of it, and Dumbledore assured her this morning that rumors of her expulsion or being turned over to the ministry are not grounded in reality.  

But she still gets the sense that even Dumbledore is underestimating Cora.  He told her not to fear. As if there were a world possible where Regina didn’t fear her mother.

“I think she did that whole display partially for me,” she admits to Robin.  “Just to let me know that she’s here. That she’s coming for me.”

It’s late, they are in the library, almost alone.  They could be in the common room of Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, and for a second she regrets not being placed in the same house as Robin.

Even if Gryffindors grate her last nerve.

“And you think she wants to use you for something?” Robin asks again, “not to kill you, or hurt you—”

“Hurt me,” Regina laughs, “oh she has no problem hurting me.  But no, I don’t think torture for torture’s sake is on the menu.  My mother wouldn’t try to kill me, as much as she dislikes me, I just get the feeling she still…”

This is difficult to admit, to anyone, because it surely doesn’t sound good.  But she can admit it to Robin. He’s supported her, he’s believed her when no one else did, and she knows he sees goodness in her, trusts her, even though she hasn’t earned any of those feelings.  

“...she still wants to get me on her side.  She was so manipulative when I was younger, I see that now.  But she never pushed me away from her. Quite the opposite. She’d push everyone else away from me so that all would be left would be her.  Try so hard to talk sense into me, get me to see everyone was And now…. I’m just afraid she has some plan to get me back.”

“She won’t win,” Robin says defiantly.  “I won’t let her take you, and I won’t let her separate us.  You know how she works now, yeah? Her mind games?”

“Daniel was the first person to open my eyes to them,” she says softly.  “The way she’d twist what everyone would say so it sounded negative, prey on my insecurities, twist my want to _belong,_ my desire to…”

She hates how pathetic she sounds, how she’s exposing her biggest weakness.

“Your desire to be loved.” Robin finishes for her, and she groans, almost frustrated with herself, over how well he already knows her and her anxieties.  But he’s rushing to assure, reaching for her hand. “But you already have a place where you belong.  And you are loved.”

She doesn’t like him to say things like this, to imply that he loves her.  But this way, this way of saying it, it doesn’t sound romantic, or like it’s only him that loves her.  After all there is little Roland who follows her around like a little lost lamb, there’s John, a friend of Robin who she has developed a real friendship with, Snow, the fifth year Hufflepuff who is advanced beyond her years in magical creatures and has a purity she hadn’t known, Belle, who is nearly as intellectually curious as Regina and is putting those research efforts into helping Regina.  

So yes, she has people who care for her.  Even Emma has softened towards her. She has a place here at Hogwarts in a way she never did at Ilvermorny, perhaps because she’s finally free of her mother’s influence.  Or she was, but now… now she’s back, and who knows.

So she ignores his use of the word “love” and nods, squeezing his hand tighter.  “My mother is quite skilled at convincing me I was strongly disliked. Anytime I thought I had a friend, or a sanctuary, she was able to point out all the ways I was deceived, and they didn’t care about me at all.  She made such strong cases. I fell for them every time. Except with Daniel. She couldn’t corrupt that. It drove her crazy. She said he was just using me to get information on her, that he wanted to fight us, ruin us… but she could never convince me.”

“I don’t think she can fool you anymore,” Robin says with renewed confidence.  “Daniel proved her wrong. Cora can try to twist things all she wants, you know better now.”

“Yeah…” Regina agrees, but her voice doesn’t sound too convincing.  And it shouldn’t, not at all, because she’s lying. She’s never known her mother to fail at anything before, why should this be the first time?

“Hey,” Robin calls to her, placing a gentle hand on her cheek.  She loves his touch, always has, since she first met him. She feels stronger with him, more… complete in a way.  

But it’s also just such a nice feeling, her heart beats fast and chest goes warm, as emotion melts over her.    

He doesn’t speak again until she leans into his touch, until she looks up and meets his eyes, and then his voice is smooth, and caring.  

“We’re going to win.”

It’s sweet, the way he’s trying to assure her, but he doesn’t know how evil is, how darkness works when she is involved.

Robin is blessed, but Regina is cursed.  Someone enacted the dark curse against him, and he lived.

Regina died.

He was removed from all the evil, painful influences in his life, she lived in harmony with them.  She was manipulated, used, and perhaps corrupted. She had been subject to numerous experiments, test spells by her mother, and any one of them could have made her into a living Trojan Horse, a ticking time bomb waiting to explode and destroy those who care about her.  

Robin thinks she’s being ridiculous, thinking about this, but she can’t help but worry that she will be the death of him, just like she had been with Daniel.  

She was a wreck after Daniel, but she doesn’t think she’d survive if Robin died.  It makes her feel so guilty, realizing Robin’s life might be more important to her than Daniel’s.  She fights it, tosses and turns at night, swims in a sea of guilt in her dreams.

She hates the fact that she loves Robin.  She hates that she found him so soon after Daniel’s death, so she can still remember how things felt with Daniel, so her mind is doing endless comparisons. So her heart is telling her she didn’t mourn Daniel properly, especially when she can’t stop thinking about Robin, worrying about him, thinking of ways to protect him from herself.

Robin speaks and interrupts her thoughts.

“Confidence, Regina.  I know you think it doesn’t help, but it does.  You can’t second guess yourself. You have to think in every fiber of your being that you are _going_ to succeed.  And I think we have the upper hand.  Do you think your mother honestly believes that a bunch of kids are as advanced as we are?  We found Maleficent’s Spellbook. A bunch of fifth, sixth and seventh years can cast powerful Patronuses in their sleep now. Along with spells barely anyone knows about. We are going to surprise her.  We’re going to get her.”

She bites her lip, and voices the request that’s been in her mind ever since her mother escaped.

“But if things don’t go as great,” she says, her voice strong, and stern.  He interrupts, but she puts her hand up, because he has to let her say this, has to. “If things look like they will end poorly, if my mother has for me, or is going for me, you have to let me face her alone. You have to promise you won’t get in my way.”

Robin, bless him, doesnt take her request lightly.  He doesn’t shrug it off, promise her that it won’t come to that.  He also doesn’t tell her what she wants to hear.

But he’s looking at her with this sweet sadness, and it pains her.  He grabs her hand and holds it in both of his.

“I can’t promise that.  I wish I could, Regina, but I told you I would never lie to you, and if I promised you that, I would be lying.  Even if I fully intended not to… I could never let you get attacked. I could never let someone take you away.”

Her eyes fill with tears, and she groans at herself for being so god damned touched by everything he says.  She hates this. She hates how much he cares for her, this noble, young, talented man with a bright future ahead of him.  He’s saddled himself with a lost cause, just like Daniel had, and Robin is set to burn just as badly as Daniel did.

And she hates herself for not wanting to push him away, for wanting him to cozy up to her, when she knows full well it will only bring him pain.

She snaps her hand away and takes a deep breath, and confesses it to him.  

“If you got hurt, or if I lost you? I don’t know what I’d do.”  She shakes her head shyly, tries to blink back a fresh set of tears, tries to plead her case, keeping her voice stern, uncompromising. “Any life I’d have left wouldn’t be worth living if I knew both you and Daniel were gone because of _me._  So you can’t.  You _have_ to stay safe.  You _have_ to protect yourself for anyone that hurts you.  Especially if that person is me.”

He’s just as stubborn as she is, though, and she can tell her words don’t make it through that thick skull of his.  He just shakes her head ever-so-gently, and reaches for her hand again. She gives it to him, like an idiot. A lovesick idiot.

“You aren’t toxic Regina.  I trust you, I trust in you.  I see you, I _know_ you.  We all do.”  He waves his air around the room.  It’s empty, but the meaning is clear.  He’s talking about their friends who had left earlier, the ones who are also putting their life, and academic career, on the line.  For her. For her and Robin.

“And you can’t blame yourself for anything others — even your mother — seeks to do to me.  That’s not your fault.” Robin is clever, it seems, because he’s adding, “And they probably would be after me anyway. I have a special reaction to the dark curse too, right? So you’re not to blame, Regina, for anything that happens to me.  I'm already a target without you.”

He’s made a sound argument.  But his words don’t help.

Because she’s not really just worried about _being the cause_ of his death.

She’s worried about his death, period.

Regina shakes her head and sighs.  “I’ll still be to blame. Cora raised me. I lived with her for years, and I couldn’t… I never even really tried to stop her.  And there might have been a time when she was on the edge, flirting with darkness, and maybe I could have…”

Robin looks angry now, squeezing her hand, and dismissing her train of thought with a vehement shake of his head.  “She’s your mother, Regina. But she was gone long before you could have done anything about it.”

“She married my father.  And he was a good man, he—“

Robin tilts his head, and cups her cheek, stroking her with his thumb.  “But, Regina you and I know marriage doesn’t mean love. You father had money and connections.  I’m not so sure your mother fell in love with a good man, I think she used a good man for his good fortune.  And even if she had fallen in love with your father, I don't think that means her heart was ever... pure.”

She nods her head.  “I know, I’ve considered that she might have manipulated him like she did me, but… I just, I want to believe there is good in her.  She’s still my mom, Robin.”

She’d admitted this to Daniel before, and he had been perhaps as harsh with her as he ever had been, convincing her that trying to see even a speck of good in Cora was a fool’s errand (she knows why, he was protecting her).

So she expects Robin to fly out with the same vigorous defense of Cora’s complete loss of humanity but… Robin takes a different approach.

He wraps her in his arms (she doesn’t even fight it, she needs a hug desperately) and admits, “I know.  I like to think the same of my mum and dad.”

“Really?  You don’t think it’s… weak, or stupid to think of her as being more… human?”

“No, what good would it do to see our parents as monsters?  They are people, Regina. They made us, after all. And I bet there was goodness in them.  There may still even be some in your mother. I don’t believe things are black and white. I don’t believe anyone is pure evil.  Not even the Dark One.”

It warms her heart in a way she hasn’t expected, this assurance that it’s okay to think of her mother as someone besides the incarnation of evil itself.

Because part of her will always believe if her mother was a monster, Regina would be part-monster, too.

“She’s still lost to the darkness,” Regina whispers.  

Robin shrugs.  “Probably so, it seems. But I'm probably a bad judge of that. You've told me how cruel she is, how horribly she's treated you, and I'll never forgive for that. I’ll always hate her. Yet it doesn't matter what I think, because even knowing she's not all evil, it doesn’t change that we have to stop her, _at_ _all costs._  But I don’t believe in dehumanizing our opponents.”

“Thank you.” It’s all Regina can say, all she can get out before avoiding tears.

“Of course,” Robin mutters, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.  “I’m here for you. Always.”

“I know,” Regina breathes.  And she does, she does know, but it’s nice to hear, especially with him holding her, touching her and giving her these unspoken assurances and emotions.

She can’t help thinking, when he’s close and holding her hand, that everything will work out, that she isn’t as poisoned as she thinks.  Because how could a soul this pure, this good, ever be attracted to something dark and spoiled?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For OQPromptParty2018 Day 5 (Friday)
> 
> 102 Bedsharing  
> 124 Robin helps Regina see light in the darkness  
> 77 “Would you like to share the blanket?”

They spend a few more hours in that library, well past curfew.  But, frankly, curfew is rarely enforced for them. Belle is a Prefect, and she’s aware that Regina’s work is important, so she covers for her, best she can.

And the rules have long since stopped applying to Robin.  Besides, Emma and David are Prefects, and so even if anyone dared to report him, they’d put a stop to it.

But the night grows later, and they still haven’t gotten anywhere.  They haven’t found any new spell, haven’t uncovered any way a dark curse could be broken or corrupted.  

There are so many ancient books to look through, and and for hours they don’t even have a lead.  

“I think we’re done for the night,” Robin declares, closing his book with a slam.  “You look knackered. And cold. We aren’t going to find anything new and exciting tonight.  Fresh sleep, warm blankets, and let’s try again tomorrow?”

She is tired.  Exhausted, even.  But the thought of going back to her bed, to her dorm mates, strikes her with fear.  She _can’t_ deal with that again, suffer the humiliation of yet another nightmare.  She hasn’t slept in days, preferring to stay awake rather than subject her roommates to another night terror.  

They are decent girls she shares a room with, but she hears their groans, the way they shift, when she wakes up in a cold sweat.

And she’s so damn _humiliated_ she would just rather skip on the sleep, and not be a bother.

Maybe she will sleep here, her head in a book.  She’s cold, because she forgot her sweater and the weather is cool. But it’s still better than the alternative.

If she screams, who will hear her but the ghosts who haunt the library?

Yes, better to be cold and shivering than warm and humiliated.

“You go ahead to bed.  I think I’m close to something,” Regina lies, pouring over a book with renewed interest.

It doesn’t fool Robin.  Not even a little.

“We promised not to lie to one another.” He reminds her gently, but stern, his blue eyes focused on hers, eyebrow raised.  “What is really going on?”

She doesn’t want to answer, doesn’t think she will.  She’s promised him honest, swore it up and down. But these are things she doesn’t need to get into to be honest, right?

“I, um, I don’t want to go back there tonight,” she confesses.  It’s the truth, it is, it’s just not the whole truth.

“Oh,” Robin says, as if he understands.  “I can help with that.”

She looks at him, confused, about to open her mouth, but he holds out his hand for her.  “Do you trust me?”

She does.  Absolutely.  So she nods, and takes that hand, lets him lead her out of the library, off to a set of flying staircases.  She has no idea where they are going, but she knows it’s to somewhere safe.

He pauses as they are walking up that fourth staircase, right by the portrait of Lady Arabella.  And then he’s pushing, point his wand and muttering something, and grabbing her hand.

The wall is just an illusion now, because she is being pulled right through it.   It’s odd, being so sure something was hard, and solid, and feeling it be nothing more than a hologram.  

At least the spot he pulls her into was that.

And the hidden room she's now in is… well, quite cozy.  There’s a big, beautiful bed, a fireplace with a roaring fire, a little bar (no alcohol it seems, the room couldn’t provide  _everything)_.

She doesn’t realize how cold she’s been until the fire is there in front of her, warm and inviting.  She abandons all questions in favor of running towards it. “Is this a true fireplace? Regina asks, holding her hands near the flame.

“Unlikely, I think it’s just an elaborate illusion.  Hogwarts doesn’t have that many chimneys.”

It’s only after she warms a bit that she realizes this room has a big, beautiful bed and a rather worn couch, a fireplace, and… not much more.

She had expected a distraction, maybe something to make her feel a bit less alone.

She raises and eyebrow.  “What exactly is this place?”

Robin shrugs.  “A secret room that a guy told me about before he graduated last year.”

She thinks about the only purpose for a room like this, and grimaces.

It’s definitely a makeout room.

And she hates herself, so, so much, because the thought of Robin _using_ this room with another girl has her absurdly jealous, almost… angry.

Which is crazy, it’s not like he even knew her then.

“Really,” she draws, trying to tamp her feelings down.

“I figured if you don’t want to go back to your dorm just yet, and you still want to sleep, this could be a good place.  And if you don’t want to be alone, I could stay here too.”

She raises an eyebrow comically high, smiling victoriously when Robin turns beet red, realizing what he’s implied.  

“No no, I’ll keep watch, or stay besides you just in case — I didn’t mean— I wouldn't, Regina!  You know that!”

“I do,” she admits, and she can’t resist making a statement on the room’s purpose.  “I’m not quite sure I trust these sheets, though.” She walks over to the bed, pointing her wand to levitate the comforter and inspect the sheet below with a wrinkle of her nose. “Given that they’ve probably been underneath dozens of classmates while they were, lets say, less than clothed?””

“Oh,” Robin says sheepishly.  “Yeah, I know, I mean, that is what the room has been used for for years, but—”

“So this room is stale with potentially centuries of worth teenager sex, wonderful.”

“But the bed is clean,” Robin insists.  "I swapped them for clean linens after Blaine showed me the room.  And I’ve not used it... um, well, never before tonight.”

She narrows her eyes, unsure she even believes him.  But then he adds, “Blaine gave it to me on the last day of school last year.  I haven’t— I haven’t been with anyone this year. You know that.”

She does know it, she supposes.  Not because the women lack interest — he has plenty of classmates fawning after him.

But for all his flirting he really never gets close to any of them.  And she’s overhead girls complaining of that fact, in class, or the common room, at quidditch matches… about how Robin is suddenly a prude, or perhaps taking a new celibacy vows. 

“Oh,” is all she says.

And god, the bed looks so inviting.  She smoothes a hand over the soft sheet.  Even just _picturing_ sleep has her feeling giddy.

“I’m going to take you up on this,” she says, surprising even herself.  “But there appears to be no washroom, and I’m not going to risk going upstairs for pajamas past curfew, so… turn around, let me get changed.”

Robin does as she asks.  She’d already taken her robe, tie and sweater off, earlier in the day when classes had ended.  But she had been too rushed to change, and therefore is still in this ridiculous wool skirt and button down blouse, and stockings that would not be comfortable to sleep in.

She has a little white tank top underneath, and her underwear is… nothing sexy (sadly).  Just some navy blue shorts that she’s now regretting. But it’s no matter, since she will slip underneath the covers before Robin can see them.

“Are your roommates making your life hell?” Robin asks, “Because I will notify Belle, and we will work out a solution, no one should ever treat you badly, you deserve—”

“No,” she groans as she fiddles with the buttons of her blouse.  “They aren’t the problem.”

“Then what?” Robin asks, his back still to her, “Does one of them snore?  Because I’m sure there’s a potion to fix that. Or is the room drafty, or maybe—”

“You can turn around,” She interrupts, as she slides under the covers.

He does, and smiles at the sight of her, walking towards the bed as if pulled by a magnet.  “I just need to know what’s going on, Regina. Why aren’t you sleeping?  Why don’t you want to go back to the dormitory tonight?”

She knew she’d have no chance of evading this, and yet she hoped for it anyway.

She shuts her eyes tight, not wanting to see his face when she admits, “Look, it’s nothing serious, but I’m having… umm,”  she turns to face the opposite side of the room and mumbles, “odd dreams.”

“Nightmares?” Robin asks, because of course he still heard her, and of course he knows what odd dreams means.  Just her luck. “Regina, I’m here to talk or help, or—”

“You can’t help.  You can’t tell my brain to quiet down and stop inventing different scenarios where I ruin everyone’s lives.  I can handle them just fine. It’s just that I, um, kind of mumble and maybe shout a bit in my dreams, and i’m waking up my roommates.  So I’ve been skimping on the sleep for their benefit.”

“Oh,” Robin ponders.  “Then sleep here. And I’ll be here, on the couch, if you start mumbling, I’ll wake _you._  Before things get too bad, yah?  Then it will be easier for you to fall back asleep.”

Regina opens her mouth in protest, but Robin holds out his hand.  “Trust me. I know about this. I’ve suffered nightmares.  Emma and Will woke me up from many. It does help.”

She bites her lip and nods.  “Are you sure you are going to be okay here for the night?” Regina asks, already shutting her eyes.  “It’s late, I’m sure your house needs you for your bedtime jokes and late night hijinx.”

“Nah, they don’t need me.  I’ve taught Will and John well.  They are suitable replacements in my absence.”

Regina only hums her response, her eyes already closed.  

The fire crackles, and the lights dim (it seems Robin has dimmed the lanterns that dot the walls.  

And the last thing she thinks about before she loses consciousness is how nice it is to sleep and feel comfortable in your own skin at the same time.

.::.

She knows something is wrong the moment she opens her eyes.  It’s a feeling in the pit of her stomach, the smell in the air, that familiar scent of perfume that had buried itself in her memory from early on.  

She doesn’t want to look, doesn’t want to see what has happened, so she tries to shut her eyes, but it just won’t work.

“Regina, dear, did you really think you could hide from me?”

Her mother comes into view now, smiling at her maniacally.  “Darling you know you were supposed to try to find me the moment you heard of my escape.  But you didn’t, instead you choose to align yourself with these… horrible excuses for wizards.  And you’ve surrounded yourself with the most pathetic of them all. An orphan, no money to his name, nothing special except his ability to charm the pants off his fellow classmates.  But it’s all over, my dear. We can still make this right. Get dressed.”

“No.” Regina says defiantly.  “I’m not going anywhere with you.  Unless you take a blood oath, now, to promise me you won’t hurt Robin.  Then I’ll go, I promise, anywhere you take me.”

She’s had this conversation so many times in her head it’s a rehearsed speech at this point.  It’s a scenario she knows well.

“Oh my dear sweet girl,” Cora says, that smile ever present in her tone, but she shifts, her facce full of pity.  “I do wish you had proposed this plan a few minutes ago.  Now, I fear that is a deal I cannot make..”

“What have you done?” Regina asks, looking around the room frantically.  “Robin? Robin?”

Cora sheepishly presents the object in her hand, the one that’s been hiding in her robe.

She’s holding Robin’s head by the hair, blood dripping from his neck onto the floor, no sign of his body anywhere, just a lifeless, unattached skull.  Cora presents to it Regina with an apologetic smile one might have on their face if they accidentally spilled milk, or forgot to pick up a loaf of bread.

Regina is frozen in place.  She cannot even open her mouth to scream.

“Well sweetheart, what did you expect?  I couldn't let him live. He was going to defile you.  He had already done so much damage. Don’t you remember, Regina?  Love is weakness.”

Cora throws Robin’s head like a basketball to Regina, and then she’s thrashing, not sure whether she wants to run from it or catch it and save him from hitting the wall, for no part of Robin in life or death should be abused by Cora.

Regina screams, screams as she lounges toward what is left of Robin, screams over the amused laughs of her mother.  And then she’s being shaken. It’s some sort of spell, or charm.

“Regina,” Robin’s voice breathes in her ear, and fuck, what sort of cruel spell has her mother put her under, is she forever cursed to hear his voice, even in death?

“Regina wake up, love, it’s not real.”

Her blood runs cold.

“Open your eyes, Regina.”

And it’s only then she realizes they really are shut, after all.

She opens them, and the dream evaporates.  It’s just her in bed, tangled and twisted in the comforter, sweating and panting in the pale light of the fire.

Robin is beside her, standing at her bedside.

She can't help it, she tosses her arms around him and hugs him tight.

She gives herself three seconds.  Three Mississippis, drawn out as long as she can.  Three seconds with his arms around her, breathing in assurances that it's all over, feeling his warmth and his  _life_ all around her.  She feels his heart beat, his breath on her neck and he hugs her back tightly.  She needs this moment to ground her, to assure her that Robin is real, this time.  That he's alive and still here with her.

She doesn't want to, but she breaks the embrace after that third second.  

Anymore would be indulgent.

“Sssorry,” she slurs, thinking back to her dream. “Seemed so real.”

“Don't apologize,"  Robin insists, playing with a piece of her hair, "It's not your fault.  I'm the one who should be sorry.  I couldn't wake you right away.  I heard you, and tried, but I suppose I wasn’t forceful enough.  That must have been some nightmare.”

“It was,” she admits.  And she can’t help but touch his face, stroke his cheek, down his neck, to where he alive.  Attached. Not decapitated.

Another reminder can't hurt.

“You okay?” Robin asks, “Can you go back to bed?”

She’s not okay.  She wants to hug the life out of him for as long as she's allowed, but she can’t do that without telling him what the dream is about, because he will absolutely want to talk about it if he finds out she’s not sleepy.  But her heart is racing, and the last thing she wants is to relive it and explain it to him.

He saves them both by rubbing at his neck.

“That couch does not look comfortable,” she mumbles, “the bed is big, come, please share it.”

He’s in boxers and an undershirt, looks absolutely adorable (more than adorable, much more).  He scratches his head for a second as if wondering if he should decline her offer, but then he’s walking to the other side of the bed and situates his body on top of the covers.  Which is ridiculous.  It's cold in here, despite the fire, and she doesn't need her honor protected by a bunch of fabric.

She turns to face him, exhaling slowly and just… staring at him from the other side of the bed.

"Robin," She says, with a raised eyebrown.  "If you'd like, we can share the blanket."

"Oh," Robin says sheepishly, before nodding and getting under the comforter with her.    

“Thanks for this,” he says slowly.  “That couch is lumpy.”

“A century’s worth of people humping on it will do that,” Regina jokes, and Robin laughs.

“I suppose.”

There’s silence then, and she can’t help but smile at how _alive_ he is, keeps stopping herself from reaching out to touch him.  He’s staring back at her with a similar sweet smile, all open and warm.  Finally she can’t help it anymore, and she lets herself grab his hand, squeezing it lightly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks politely, and it seems he won’t force her to do so, won’t remind her of their pact, thank the heavens for that.

“No, I don’t want to talk about it,” She sighs, releasing his hand so he can sleep.  “I just… I…”

She doesn’t like to ask for affection.  She never has to with Robin, usually he knows, senses when she needs it, and offers it.

She needs it now, but he’s not giving it, and she thinks perhaps being in a bed together in their underwear might have something to do with his hesitation.

She doesn’t need it.  She doesn’t need his touch at all.  

She just needs to sleep.

Her body needs to settle itself, and stop craving for these little gentle assurances he is alive.

Except, everytime she closes her eyes she only worries about him leaving her again, being hurt again, and she needs to open them again to reassure herself.

Shit.

“Are you alright?” Right asks, after the fifth time her eyes fly open.

“I just…. I need…” she can’t finish the sentence, her cheeks go red.  She doesn’t get to ask this of him, not when he’s made it so clear that he likes her, and she’s made it clear that she will not ever be in a relationship with him.

“What do you need?” Robin asks, placing a hand on her arm and stroking it gentle, and god, that’s it, that’s what she needs.  

She nearly purs at his touch, and her eyes shut tight at the feel of it.  

“I think… I think I’ll sleep better if we are, touching.” she manages to stutter.

Robin offers her a warm look, and then he’s wrapping an arm around her and pulling him into his chest.  “Of course. I just didn’t want to overstep and get kicked out of bed.”

She chuckles into her chest, steals the opportunity to wrap her hands around his torso and squeeze him tight.  He’s so solid, so real, so alive.

She shakes her head at how silly she’s being.  Of course he’s alive, she's checked a dozen times by now.  It was only just a bad dream.

She doesn't count the seconds as she hugs this time, she just lets it go on as long as she wants.  She half expects him to break the embrace, but Robin holds her tightly back, the whole time.  Until Regina's heart stops beating so fast, until her breathing evens out, and she thinks she might be able to sleep again.

So Regina turns in Robin's embrace, situates herself so they are spooning, side by side, his arm wrapped tightly around her.

“Feels good,” she whispers.  Being in his hold is so calming, a sense of peace washes over her like a wave, taking all the anxiety away in the undercurrent, leaving her sleepy and relaxed.

“I’m glad,” Robin rasps back.  “It is for me too.  You are a very good sleep companion.”

She grimaces, and adds “Except for the part where I scream in my sleep.”

”Worth it.” Robin murmurs into her ear.  “Id gladly sleep here with you every night, if you let me.  Screams and all.”

”Robin...” She should shut this down, absolutely, he doesn’t need to be interpreting this romantically, because it’s not that.  adjust two friends, cuddling in bed, trying to stay safe.

She can’t find the words to say anything, words dying on her tongue as her heart refuses to let her break his.

Robin speaks instead.  “It’s alright, I know.  Go to sleep, Regina, I’m here.  I’ll be here.”

She’s almost on the verge of passing out when she feels to ask one more thing of him.

“Don’t you ever die on me,” her voice thick and laced with sleep.  “Couldn’t handle it, I really couldn’t.”

She's not looking at him, so she misses his reaction.  But she can tell by the clearing of his throat that he took her words to heart. 

“I won’t die.  I don’t die. I’m the boy who lived.  I’m like a cockroach; you can’t get rid of me,” he assures, but she’s too tired to see the humor in it, only snuggles into his side more, urges him to hold her tighter.  She doesn’t so much as balk when he presses a kiss to her hair.  She welcomes it, actually.  It feels so nice.

Sleep comes easy then.

Regina doesn’t dream that night.  She wakes up feeling refreshed, with Robin completely wrapped around her.  

This shouldn’t be happening, this closeness, this intimacy, the emotions he stirs in her.

But she sleeps better next to him, she _thinks_ better when he’s with her, she’s at her best in every way when he is by her side.

And she needs that now, more than ever.  So she lets herself have it, drinks up every ounce of Robin she can get, before they have to get up for the day and rush off to their respective dorms.  

She’ll push him away, develop a sense of boundaries someday.  But today is not that day.


End file.
